by Toni Blake
And that was when Emily rested her hand on top of his.
Leaning his head forward, he gazed down at how tiny her hand was compared to his larger, darker one. And he thought about how delicate her fingers were, especially compared to his, callused and hardened by work.
Instinct made him lift his index finger—and when he did, Emily wrapped her hand around it. And something in his stomach rippled.
***
Holly swung the car into the driveway, exhausted. One emergency down. Now to relieve Derek of baby duty. He’d probably never want to see her again.
She’d called twice from her mother’s house and he’d claimed things were fine—but she could tell he wasn’t experienced with babies, so she hurried toward the front door ready to find chaos. She’d been away for almost three hours.
To her surprise, however, she stepped inside a house filled with silence. The lights had been turned low, casting a misty glow across the still living room.
When she spotted them, a soft smile seized her. Derek lay on the couch and Emily had fallen asleep on his chest.
He smiled up at Holly with sleepy eyes, then shifted to a sitting position, careful not to jar the baby with the movement. “How’s your mother?” he whispered.
“Fine, I think.” She sat down next to them. “It seemed to be a false alarm. The pains went away, but I stayed with her until she fell asleep. She’s seeing the doctor tomorrow.”
“Good.” He nodded.
“So you and Emily did okay?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, appearing to think back over their time together. “Pretty bad diaper scene, but we muddled through.”
His words made Holly smile—but that was when Derek glanced down at Emmy, his expression changing uncertainly, and he thrust the baby toward her.
She reached out and took her daughter, who stirred only slightly at the movement. “She had a bad one, huh? I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “But I couldn’t get her outfit back on her, so…”
“That’s fine,” she assured him warmly. Then she gazed down at her little girl, feeling awkward about everything that had happened. His sudden change of demeanor as he’d gotten more fully awake had reminded her to. “Do you mind if I put her to bed now?”
He shook his head.
And Holly tried to smile at him, but now the effort proved difficult. What a hell of a way to impress a guy. Invite him to dinner, then make him babysit. “I’ll be right back,” she told him.
He nodded, still looking sleepy, or maybe disgruntled. She couldn’t tell.
Entering the nursery, the smell of the bad diaper attacked her instantly. She rushed Emily into a pink terrycloth sleeper, then lay her gently down in bed, after which she transferred the diaper and used wipes to the Diaper Genie where the rank smell would be swallowed. Derek had been right—it was a nasty diaper.
“’Night, sweetie,” she whispered, flipping off the light in Emily’s room.
Then she rushed back to the couch and Derek, taking a seat next to him. It surprised her to feel the intense beating of her own heart, but this time, unfortunately, it wasn’t due to her attraction to him—now it could only be attributed to her embarrassment at having put him in such a position on what she had originally hoped would qualify as a date.
“I’m so sorry for all this,” she began, staring down at her hands in her lap as she spoke. “I feel just horrible. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you watching Emily for me. And I’m sorry about that awful diaper. I wish you hadn’t had to stay with her, but—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted her, using his fingertips to lift her chin. The touch had come when she’d least expected it.
And as she looked into his eyes, desire instantly overtook her. Why, oh why, had things had to turn out like this? She only wished…what? She didn’t even know. None of her wishes seemed even remotely realistic at the moment. She should have known she had too many other responsibilities in her life right now to have time for a man—even a gorgeous, virile, incredibly sexy one. She hung her head in defeat, whispering, “I’m just sorry the night has to end this way.”
When he tilted his head and peered into her eyes, the heat from his nearly made her sweat. “It doesn’t have to,” he told her.
“It doesn’t?” She tried like hell not to be nervous beneath his sultry gaze.
“No,” he answered, voice low and sexy. “It could end like this.” Then he gently cupped her cheek in his palm and leaned in to give her a small kiss, his lips warm and firm on hers. She felt it all the way to her toes.
“Or it could end like this,” he told her—and he kissed her again, longer this time, his mouth opening, his tongue gently sliding between her lips before the kiss ended.
As a weakened sigh left her, her body shuddered with longing and she let him see it in her eyes.
“I can think of more ways for it to end,” he told her, a seductive and oh-so-tempting grin reshaping his expression.
And Holly’s embarrassment had suddenly faded—turned to something completely different, completely consuming. She felt daring. She felt alive. And she felt…ready. Yes, ready. “What are they?” she asked.
CHAPTER FIVE
Derek’s strong hand slid to the back of Holly’s neck, drawing her to him. His mouth was more sensual and hungry this time and his tongue more probing. He pushed his way between her lips and she surrendered, letting his tongue capture hers. The idea that their tongues were slow dancing sent a thick wave of pleasure rippling through the small of her back.
When he withdrew, they were both breathless, and his gaze burned through her, conveying a deeper desire than words could describe. The way she felt both frightened and excited her. It had never been like this with Bill. It had never been like this with anyone at all. All the fantasies of her youth seemed suddenly true and real and ready to converge right at this moment.
“I love your hair,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling at the lobe, then raining kisses on her neck.
Holly drew in her breath and, for the first time, let herself begin to touch him. Her hands found his chest and she pressed her palms against the muscles hiding beneath his shirt, finding the rapid beat of his heart. It fueled her excitement.
“I want you, Holly,” he breathed.
And she wanted him, too—like she’d never wanted a man before. But she could only moan in response.
He lay her gently back on the couch until he was moving atop of her—in a whole different kind of slow dance—their legs intertwining like grapevines. She writhed beneath him, both enraptured at the near-ecstasy that coursed through her body and dumbfounded by how quickly it had happened, how fast she had allowed herself to be caught up in his charms.
His hands found her breasts, kneading them through her clothes as she lay gasping beneath him, wishing she had the strength to tell him to slow down. Because it had just hit her that this was awfully fast. Awfully fast because they’d just met. Awfully fast because this was her very first date since her husband’s death.
But she didn’t—couldn’t. It felt too good. Had anything ever felt so good? Had anything ever made her lose control like this before? Ready. That word had passed through her mind a little while ago, and she desperately wanted to be that for him. And she’d thought she was—she’d practically felt it coursing through her veins. But was she?
Soon his touches had heightened all her senses and numbed her mind so that she could only feel. His thumbs, stroking so delicately over the peaks of her breasts, teasing them into tight buds. His voice, rasping in her ear. “You feel so good. I want to feel more of you.” His hot breath, on her neck—and then drifting, down over the top of her chest, soon warming the hollow between her breasts.
His fingers worked at the buttons of her blouse, first one, then another, then another—as her lips trembled and her heart pounded. She moved beneath him almost involuntarily, her pelvis lifting and rubbing against his, lost in a hundred different delicious sensat
ions. Then his hands were on the lace cups of her bra, squeezing, caressing, making her moan. His fingertips rubbed circles over her nipples and she lifted her eyes to his.
As their gazes locked, he whispered to her. “I want to kiss them.”
Oh God. She drew in her breath, longing for what he’d just promised.
Then his tongue thrust between her lips again, hard and hot, but only for a moment before his mouth dropped to her chest, sprinkling tiny licks and kisses—just before his fingers moved to the front clasp of her bra.
The touch was unexpectedly shocking, like reality suddenly reaching out to bite her. This…isn’t me, isn’t who I am. This is some irresponsible teenager in the backseat of a car. Suddenly nothing made sense.
She reached for his hands, stopping their progress, and he looked to her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he murmured deeply.
“I can’t.” She hated the words even as they left her.
“Why not?”
“Because…I hardly know you and we’re moving too fast and this isn’t like me and I have a baby sleeping in the next room.” The reasons had all suddenly spilled out of her in a rush.
He tilted his head, looking surprisingly undaunted. “We can be quiet,” he offered softly. “We won’t wake her.”
And Lord—the warm timbre of his voice made the invitation tempting. All of it was tempting. All of him.
But suddenly not tempting enough. “No, that’s not it,” she explained. “This just doesn’t seem…”
“What? It doesn’t seem what?”
She bit her lip while the sexy guy on top of her began looking confused and disappointed. She hated the frustration that shone in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “It’s just that…that…”
Holly didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him that the problem wasn’t him, it was her. Her life, her commitments, her responsibilities. She wanted to explain that she’d only had sex with three guys in her life and never on the first date.
Of course, none of those men had ever succeeded in making her feel as completely overcome with desire as she did right now. She felt like the silly, nervous teenager who had dreamed all those wonderful, crazy dreams of perfect passion without ever letting any of them find her, without ever letting any of them come true. And then when they finally did, she pushed them away. In fact, she felt positively pre-adolescent.
And feeling so childish was horrible enough without letting him in on it, too.
“Waaaaaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaaaaa!”
The baby’s cries, cutting into his frustration and her inability to explain, just seemed like the cherry on top of the sundae of awkwardness, and a perfect reminder of why this couldn’t happen. And also, at the moment, a good reason to escape having to explain.
“I have to get her,” Holly said, slipping desperately out from beneath him.
She buttoned her blouse as she ran to the nursery, then scooped Emily up in her arms.
“Oh Emmy,” she cooed, rocking the baby to calm her, then cuddling her daughter to her chest. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Mommy’s sorry she was gone all night. But I’m here now. Mommy’s here.”
She kissed Emily on the forehead and tried to reconcile the wholesome love she had for her child with the reckless abandon she’d been swimming in just moments before. She wasn’t sure the two could co-exist peacefully.
And it was tempting to consider just staying where she was, in the nursery, soft and comforting by its very design—and right now a safe place because she and Emily were alone here, not having to face the uncomfortable situation she’d let develop.
Too bad she couldn’t just stay here all night. But you have to go back out there. You have to stop acting like a silly, embarrassed teenager, even if you still feel like one.
Gathering her courage, she carried Emily out into the living room. Derek was standing up now, but his T-shirt remained untucked and his rumpled hair made him look a little dangerous. The very sight of him re-immersed her in her fantasies.
“Derek, I’m sorry,” she told him.
But he held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t apologize. I was pushy.”
“No,” she said. “You weren’t.” And she meant it. She’d given him every indication that she wanted more of him. And she had wanted more of him. She just hadn’t been able to go through with it. She hadn’t been as ready as she’d thought.
“Listen,” he said, “it’s late.”
She simply nodded. Even though he hadn’t thought it was late a few minutes ago.
“I should go,” he told her.
“All right,” she said, more meekly than intended.
“Good night,” he said. And then he turned to leave.
“Derek,” she said quickly, stopping him. She couldn’t let him leave this way—she had to somehow try and repair what she’d messed up.
And when he turned to face her again, she said, “I’m…really sorry.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for. And…thanks for dinner. Dinner was nice.”
Dinner was nice. Only too short. Like the things they both were saying right now. There was so much they weren’t saying. Or…maybe none of it mattered and that was why neither of them were bothering to say it. The tone of their talk now, a certain shortness to it, suggested a certain finality.
“Thank you for watching Emily,” she replied. Still just as short. Still not one of the things she thought she should be saying here.
He only nodded, and then walked out the door—and she watched him go. She let him go.
And then she carried Emily to the couch, where she sat down and cried.
***
Derek walked the distance from Holly’s house to his without feeling the ground beneath his feet, without being aware of the darkness, or the stars in the sky, or the cool summer breeze that floated through the night air. He felt like a balloon that had been deflated.
Stepping inside, he turned on the light to see a fluffy white kitten perched on the arm of his couch. He walked over and scratched the blue-eyed cat behind the ears. “You clean up pretty good,” he said, still a little amazed to discover his cat was white.
He continued to pet the kitten as he took a seat on the couch next to him, and Claws purred and nuzzled against Derek’s hand. He figured that must mean the cat had gotten over their little bath disagreement earlier. He pulled him into his lap, surprised at the urge to hold him.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be a cat guy, after all.
Still, being a cat guy did not a romance make. Because being a cat guy did not equate to being a baby guy. He and Emily had survived tonight, and that was about it.
Besides, he was beginning to think his original instincts had been correct. Holly wasn’t ready for dating yet.
Not that there was anything wrong with not wanting to go to bed on the first night—he could have lived with that, respected her wishes on it. But he had seen too much apprehension in her eyes. Her worries, fears—whatever they were—had to do with more than knowing each other for a proper length of time before having sex. And he’d thought perhaps she was about to tell him what those fears and worries were when the baby had started crying and blown any chance they’d had of making the night a success. Derek shook his head, frustrated by the whole situation.
“I don’t think I’m going to see her again,” he said, thinking out loud.
Claws looked up at him and they made eye contact. “Meow.”
So Derek sighed and told the cat, “It’s just best that way.” After all, there were too many things that would make a relationship between them too hard, too many things to keep them apart.
They had nothing in common—that was clear.
And the further truth was that she really had no idea just exactly how much in common they didn’t have.
Some of the differences between them were easy to see, right there on the surface. She had a baby, and he was just learning to function with a cat. She was soft and pretty, a
nd he was hard and dirty.
But some of the differences went deeper. Too deep.
Holly had probably been brought up in a nice middle-class neighborhood like this one. She’d probably lived in a nice home and slept in a bed with frills and a canopy. She’d probably gone shopping for school clothes every fall. Hell, she’d probably been a cheerleader. Or the editor of the school newspaper. Or in some other important position.
Her conservative little soul would probably be shocked beyond repair to find out what his childhood had been like. Some days he was lucky enough to forget about it—he’d come a long way and he’d put it behind him. But that didn’t change the facts. It didn’t erase the things he’d been through. No matter how far away he traveled from his youth, it would always be there, a part of him, a part of his history.
Besides, he told himself, shifting his thoughts back to Holly, babies plus conservatism did not equal the kind of relationship he generally looked for. It was a shame that the woman of his dreams had to come with those particular features.
Wait a minute. Woman of his dreams? Was that what Holly Blake was?
If someone had asked him to describe his dream woman a couple of days ago, he wouldn’t have made her a schoolteacher. And he wouldn’t have dressed her in ridiculously high-necked clothing and nightgowns like Aunt Marie had worn. And, of course, then came the obvious: a picture of his dream woman would not have included a baby.
And yet Holly had all those things and still managed to twist his mind into contemplating the idea that she might just possibly be the woman he’d been waiting for his whole life.
Even though, before this moment, it had never occurred to him that he might be waiting for someone. It was a hard thing to understand.
“Meow,” Claws said, climbing up his chest to nuzzle at his throat. He wrapped one hand around the cat’s back.
“And now, because of her,” Derek said, “I have a cat.” He looked down at Claws, then shook his head. “Lost the girl, got the cat. Figures.”
“Meow,” Claws protested.
